


Your War is Won

by iwillnotbecaged



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Aging, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Medical Procedures, but nothing too graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 06:19:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7423414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillnotbecaged/pseuds/iwillnotbecaged
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is getting older, but Steve is not. Steve being Steve, he's very dramatic about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your War is Won

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to pringlesaremydivision for the read through
> 
> Title from "The War" by Melee, which was also the song that sort of inspired this in the first place.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Steve was on the couch, Sam leaning comfortably on his chest. It was a familiar habit, their way of reconnecting whenever Sam came home from a mission. The contact grounded both of them, reassuring each of them that they were here and safe and whole.

Sam usually spent the time telling Steve about the mission, relating funny stories about Miles or Kamala (or Tony, more often than not) or talking through something that went wrong to try to prevent it the next time. Today, though, Sam was quiet.

“I know that you know about inflation, Steve,” Sam teased.

Steve kissed his temple and continued stroking his arm gently. “A dollar, then.”

Sam shifted in his arms to look up at him. “How about you actually do the dishes tonight instead?”

Steve laughed. “You drive a hard bargain, but alright. Consider it done. Now you want to tell me what’s got you so quiet?”

Sam looked down at his hands. “I think it might be time for me to put down the shield. Pass it on to someone new.”

Steve was glad Sam couldn’t see his face. “What makes you say that?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m getting kinda old.”

“You’re not old!”

“You threw me a 40th birthday party just last month!”

“Well, sure, but 40 is the new 30. I read it on Buzzfeed.”

Sam laughed. “Well, if you read it on Buzzfeed, it must be true.” He took Steve’s hand and started tracing the lines of his palm. “In all seriousness, though, superheroing is a young man’s game. And I may look damn good for my age, but I’m still starting to feel it.”

“Tony’s not young. And Bucky and I are both over 100.”

“Tony has a suit that he constantly upgrades and you and Bucky have the serum. You may have been born a century ago, but between the freezing and your slowed-down aging, you’re barely over 30. And do you even count as a superhero anymore? I seem to remember you handing over your shield and title a few years ago and deciding to be a kept man instead.” Steve could hear the smile in Sam’s voice.

Sam had a point. After everything with Bucky and the conflict with Tony and a few more potentially world-ending events, he had finally let himself be convinced that he deserved a break. He’d been glad to see Sam step up as Captain America and was beyond proud of the work he had done. So if Sam wanted to rest now, who was he to deny him that?

“So who are you thinking of? Eli?”

“Maybe. I’m not sure he wants the job though. What do you think about America?”

Steve considered. “Well, she’s already got the name and the color scheme. I like her attitude, and she’s got Kate to keep her grounded. Well, mostly, at least.”

“Plus it would make the Fox News crowd shit their pants, which is always entertaining to watch.”

Steve laughed and turned Sam’s head towards him so that he could kiss him for that. “Very true. It’s been awhile since we gave them something to yell about.”

“I’m not sure we’ll ever top announcing our marriage from a float in the middle of Pride, but this may come close.”

Steve smiled at the memory. “That was a good day.”

Sam shifted on the couch to face him. “Because you got to finally tell the world I was your husband, right?”

“Of course.” Steve gave Sam his best innocent face, even though he knew it didn’t actually work on him. Sam just shook his head at him. He let the facade fall and took Sam’s hands in his.

“I think that you could continue to be a great Captain America for many more years. But if you want to be done, I’ll be with you 100%.”

Sam smiled at him fondly. “I know you will. Thank you. I haven’t decided anything yet, it’s just...something I’m thinking about.” He stood up and pulled Steve with him. “Now come on, it’s time for my post-mission blowjob.”

Steve followed him without hesitation.

 

In the weeks that followed, they continued to talk through the pros and cons. Steve did his best to provide an objective sounding board, but it seemed more and more clear that hanging up the shield was what Sam wanted.

“Just imagine what I could do with all my time if I wasn’t constantly being called away! I could go back to helping out at the VA and actually be a consistent presence,” Sam told him over lunch one day, the excitement in his eyes obvious. “And Jody’s in middle school now. He’s gonna need his Uncle Sam and I’m sure Sarah would love to have a little bit of extra help.”

“Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out. So what’s holding you back still?”

Sam finished chewing and took a sip of his drink. “I guess I’m just worried I’ll miss the adrenaline rush. I know that when we met I was happy to be out, but if I’m honest with myself, I was starting to get bored. What if that happens again?”

“What if it does? It’s not like you wouldn’t be able to jump back in occasionally if you wanted. And no one’s gonna take your wings from you this time.”

“That’s true.”

“And if you really start getting bored, we’ll go skydiving or base jumping or swimming with sharks or whatever. You know, all those things adrenaline junkies that _aren’t_ superheroes do.”

“Maybe not skydiving.” Sam gave him a look. “I’m not sure I trust you to actually remember to use your parachute.”

“Ha ha, very funny.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Anything else that’s keeping you from retiring?”

Sam’s face turned serious. “No, I guess not.”

Steve reached across the table to take Sam’s hand. “Then I think it’s time we get America some practice with the shield.”

Sam’s smile was grateful. “I guess it is.”

 

America turned out to be a natural with the shield and it didn’t take long before everyone was confident that she’d be able to handle it in the field. They set a date for the formal announcement and before Steve knew it, it was done. Sam had announced his retirement and handed the shield to America at a press conference that morning and then they had spent the afternoon laughing at the negative reactions and sharing as many of the positive ones as they could manage on their various social media accounts.

That night, though, Steve finally forced himself to face the thought that he had kept locked in the back of his mind while Sam made his decision: Sam was aging.

Of course Sam was aging. That’s what people did. Steve hadn’t thought about it much before, but Sam’s retirement had made it a reality. Sam was aging and would continue to age. His hair would turn gray and his joints would stiffen and his muscles would weaken. His skin would eventually wrinkle, no matter how much he rubbed coconut oil into it and insisted it wouldn’t, and someday his mind would dim.

And Steve would have to watch it all happen.

He wasn’t immortal, of course, but the gap between their physical ages was already widening and would only continue to do so. The doctors estimated that he aged about four times slower than the average human, which meant that in the eight years since he had jogged past Sam on the mall, he had only aged two. 

Sam would age, and Steve would be powerless, unable to do anything but watch, before he was eventually left behind.

He studied the man lying beside him, sleeping soundly. He was so beautiful, still full of youth and vitality, regardless of the “over the hill” balloons Rhodey had brought to his birthday party. But now that Steve had been forced to consider it, he could hear the clock ticking and felt his heart begin to crack.

He knew he shouldn’t borrow trouble — his mother had always told him that tomorrow had enough worries of its own — but he couldn’t help it. He had already lost so much in the past; the awareness that he had even more to lose in the future was threatening to drown him.

Sam shifted in his sleep and Steve reached out to take hold of his wrist. They had been together too long and Steve ran too warm for them to fall asleep in each other’s arms anymore, but tonight Steve needed the assurance of that touch. Even so, it was hours before he finally drifted off to sleep.

 

Steve leaned on the door frame and cleared his throat. He had planned on figuring out how to start this conversation on his way to Dr. Cho’s lab, but nothing had come to mind and now here he was, awkward and unsure.

“Captain Rogers! I didn’t see you on my schedule for today.”

“Probably because I wasn’t. And really, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Steve?”

She smiled at him. “Probably as many times as I have to tell you to call me Helen.”

He ducked his head and gave her a small smile. “Touche, Dr. Cho.”

She gave an exasperated sigh and shook her head in response. “What can I do for you?” She walked over to her desk and gestured for him to have a seat.

He settled into the chair, and then leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I, well — I had a question. About the serum.”

“Of course. Ask away.”

“You’ve studied it quite a bit, right?”

A small line appeared between Dr. Cho’s eyebrows. “Yes, I have. But I promise, Captain Rogers, my team and I have made no attempts to recreate it and we have no plans to. Our work has been focused on how best to care for you in case of injury and on the possibility of using it to cure particular diseases.”

“Oh, of course,” Steve reassured her. “Of course, I trust you. I never would have provided samples if I thought you planned to do otherwise.” He took a deep breath. “I was just wondering if, if was possible to, I don’t know, isolate part of the serum?”

“I’m not sure I understand…”

“I’m not aging. Or well, I am, but only very slowly.”

The light of understanding dawned in Dr. Cho’s eyes. “Ah, I see. Would this have anything to do with Sam’s recent retirement?”

“You’ll call him Sam, but you won’t call me Steve? Really?”

“He calls me Helen.” She smiled kindly at him. “You want to know if it’s possible for you to age at a normal rate?”

Steve nodded. “Preferably without also bringing back the asthma and colorblindness and everything else.” He huffed in frustration and looked down at his hands. “I sound ridiculous. If it were possible to...turn the serum off, or whatever, someone definitely would have tried it by now.”

“I don’t think it sounds ridiculous.” He gave her a disbelieving look.

“Well, no more ridiculous than the serum working in the first place, or aliens arriving in New York via portal, or Vision’s very existence.” 

Dr. Cho smiled when that got a small laugh at him. “If you say so.”

“We have actually had mild success with isolating various parts of the serum. Let me do some digging, run some tests, see what I can find out.”

Steve felt the weight he had been carrying on his shoulders shift ever so slightly. “Thank you, Dr. Cho. Helen.”

“I’m not making any promises. Even if we are able to isolate just the part of the serum that affects aging, there’s no guarantee will be able to figure out how to turn it off, as you put it. And even then, there’s no way of knowing how it will affect the rest of the serum. We don’t exactly have a lot of test subjects to experiment on.”

“I understand.” He pushed himself up out of the chair. “I appreciate you even trying.”

“Of course, Steve.”

He smiled at the use of his first name and gave her a small wave goodbye. He made his way home on autopilot. Home. The apartment he had shared with Sam ever since they moved into Avengers Tower was the first place that had felt like home since he woke up in the 21st century, and it was because of Sam.

The grief of potentially losing yet another home threatened to overwhelm him, but he managed to shove it all down before the elevator dinged and the door opened. He didn’t want Sam to worry about him.

 

Over the next few weeks Steve tried to act normal, but he could tell he wasn’t very good at it. He couldn’t keep himself from watching Sam more closely than usual, from trying to soak up every look and every touch. Sam asked him once if everything was alright, but Steve shrugged off the question and Sam didn’t push it.

Bucky did, though. He came over for dinner one night when he had returned from a mission and Sam was out with Sarah and Jody.

“What’s with you, punk? I haven’t seen you look this mopey since 1942.”

“Sure you have. Remember in Wakanda when you decided to go back into cryo?”

“Yeah, okay, that was worse. But stop deflecting and tell me what’s wrong.”

Steve put his napkin on the table and leaned back in his chair. “What are the odds of you letting this go if I say I don’t want to talk about it?”

“About zero.” Bucky grinned obnoxiously.

“Of course.” He got up and headed towards the couch, grabbing a bottle of whiskey along the way. Bucky followed close behind and flopped down on the other end of the couch, sticking his sock-covered feet into Steve’s space. “Ugh, quit it,” Steve said, shoving his feet away.

“Give me a drink and start talking, or you’ll find them in your face.”

“You’re disgusting.” Steve rolled his eyes, but poured two glasses and handed one to Bucky. 

They both sipped at their drinks in silence. When Steve finished his first and poured another, Bucky finally spoke up.

“You remember we can’t actually get drunk, right?”

Steve laughed ruefully. “Yeah, I remember. That’s kind of the problem.”

“If you’re this bummed about not getting a buzz, we can always call Thor and ask him to bring some more of that mead by.”

“No, it’s not that.” He took a sip. “How old do I look, Buck?”

“I don’t know. 30-ish, I guess?” Steve frowned into his glass. “What, you find a gray hair or something? Worried you’re losing your edge?”

“The opposite, actually.” 

Bucky took his glass away and set it on the coffee table, then grabbed his shoulder. “Talk to me, Stevie.”

“Sam retired. He turned 40 and he retired and Tony keeps making old man jokes and Rhodey teases him about his midlife crisis and I still look 30-ish.” His throat started closing up towards the end and his eyes were stinging, but he managed to keep his voice from cracking.

“Man, Peggy was not wrong when she said you were dramatic.”

Steve looked up, hurt. “I’m gonna lose him, Bucky. He’s gonna get old and I won’t and one day I’ll lose him.”

Bucky gave him a half smile. “I hate to break it to you, pal, but that’s kind of how life works. Someone has to go first.”

Steve crossed his arms and clenched his jaw. “You don’t get it.”

“Of course I get it, Steve. You think I haven’t noticed that I don’t have any gray hairs yet? That even though I laugh a lot more now, I still don’t have laugh lines? I may have gotten the knock-off version of the serum, but I’m not exactly aging at a normal rate either.”

Steve opened his mouth to argue again, but Bucky cut him off.

“I know you’re worried about being alone. About what you’ll do after Sam is gone. But that’s normal. Everyone worries about that.”

“But not everyone has to keep going for decades afterwards.”

“True. But it’s not like there’s anything you can do about it. And it would be dumb of you to waste the time you _do_ have worrying about something that’s so far off. Sam could easily live another 50 years or more. You gonna spend that whole time moping?”

“No, of course not,” Steve protested, then added under his breath, “and there might actually be something I can do about it.”

He could feel Bucky studying him. “What do you mean?”

“I may have asked Dr. Cho about the possibility of...undoing the part of the serum that keeps me from aging.”

Bucky picked up his glass and downed the rest of it, then leaned back into the couch with a groan. “Goddamn it, Steve. You’re just not satisfied unless you’re being experimented on or throwing yourself on a grenade or jumping out of a fucking plane without a fucking parachute, are you?”

“Bucky —”

“Why do you always gotta do this? Why can’t you ever just take what life deals you and move on? Why do you always gotta fight back?”

Steve tugged a string that was sticking out of one of the couch cushions. “I don’t know. I’m just wired that way, I guess.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me one of these days. For real, this time.”

Steve looked over at him. “Not funny, Buck.”

“Yeah, okay, sorry. So what, you’re gonna let Dr. Cho experiment on you like Dr. Erskine did?”

“Nothing’s certain at this point. She said she’d look into it, but she’s not even sure it’s possible.”

“And if it is, it’s probably still risky, right?”

“Yeah, probably,” Steve admitted.

“You’ve gotta tell him you’re considering this.”

“I was going to! I was just waiting until I knew for sure if it was even an option. I don’t want him to worry.”

“Uh huh, because you walking around like a kicked puppy isn’t worrying him at all. You tell Sam, or I will.”

“Tell me what?” Sam’s voice carried into the living room from the entryway.

Bucky stood up from the couch. “Well, that’s my cue. Tell him, Steve. You know you’ll feel better when you do. Sam.” He clapped Sam on the shoulder and abandoned Steve to his fate.

Sam pulled his jacket it off and tossed it over the back of the chair that seemed to serve no purpose other than collecting coats. He leaned down to give Steve a quick kiss, then settled on the couch next to him.

“So I take it you’re finally gonna tell me what you’ve been so upset about the past few weeks?”

Steve told him everything — his worries, his conversation with Dr. Cho, all of it. Sam listened silently as he talked and stayed silent when he finished.

“Are you mad?” Steve asked, tentatively.

Sam shook his head and took his hand. “No, not really. I get where you’re coming from. Mostly I’m upset that it took Bucky smacking you upside the head to get you to tell me all of this. I thought we were done with the bottling up all the emotions thing.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you are.” Sam pulled him closer so that he was leaning against him, Sam’s arm comfortably around his shoulders, fingers drawing patterns on his upper arm. “As for the rest of it, I understand why you would ask Dr. Cho to try. I’m not thrilled about the idea of you getting yourself experimented on again, though. And before you decide anything, I want you to know that I have absolutely no problem with being a 90-year-old man with a relatively young Steve Rogers on my arm. A part of me has always wanted a trophy husband.”

Steve laughed a little, and relaxed further into Sam.

“But if it’s what you really want, I won’t try to stop you.”

“I want to grow old with you, Sam. I want to complain with you about backaches and stiff joints. I want both of our bodies to show the evidence of the lives we live. I want pictures of us with gray hair and wrinkles.” Sam scoffed at that. “Okay, okay, I’ll be the only one with wrinkles, I know. I just don’t want to look at a family photo one day and realize I look more like I belong with Jody than with you.”

“How on earth did I get so lucky?” Sam kissed his temple and squeezed him even tighter. “Alright, baby. We’ll see what Dr. Cho says and move on from there. Just promise me you won’t rush into anything.”

“I won’t.” Steve took Sam’s hand and kissed his palm. “I love you, Sam.”

“I love you too.”

 

Dr. Cho contacted him a few days later with tentatively good news. It appeared that a compound Bruce had worked on years ago, but hadn’t been able to perfect with the technology he had at the time, might be able to counteract the serum. Her description of how they would keep it isolated to just the properties responsible for aging mostly went over his head, but he trusted her.

“As I’ve said before, there is no way for us to be certain that we have completely isolated just the aging. There are many possible side effects, some of which could potentially make your life much more uncomfortable than it is now. There’s also still the possibility that it won’t have any effect at all.”

“I understand, Helen. Thank you again for everything you’ve done. How long before it’s ready?”

“We could do the procedure as early as tomorrow. It’s up to you, Steve.”

“Thanks. I’ll talk with Sam and let you know.”

They spent hours going over it, talking through all the pros and cons, the potential risks and how they might deal with any complications. Steve reminded himself that there was no need to rush and did his best to actually consider the consequences, rather than just digging his heels in. Even so, when they finally exhausted all the maybes and what ifs, Steve’s mind was unchanged.

Sam let out a soft sigh. “So when are we gonna do this?”

“Helen said we could do it tomorrow.”

Sam nodded. “Do one more thing for me?”

“Of course.” Steve stepped closer to where Sam was leaning against the kitchen counter. Sam’s hands came up to his waist, clasping his shirt tightly.

“Wait until Monday. Give us the weekend, just to make sure.”

Steve cupped the side of Sam’s face, thumb brushing gently over his cheekbone. “Yeah, okay. Monday.”

He leaned in to kiss Sam then, and he could feel all of Sam’s worry and fear in it. Steve held him tightly, big hands stroking Sam’s back and pulling him closer. He resolved to do whatever he could over the next few days to ease that fear.

 

They spent the early hours of Monday morning lazily making out in bed, hands stroking wherever they could reach, soft sighs and low moans occasionally breaking into the silence. Eventually they had to leave the bed and shower and make their way downstairs to Dr. Cho’s lab.

The set-up was much less daunting than the basement in Brooklyn had been, with all of Howard’s machines and dials making him question exactly what he had gotten himself into. This time there was just a hospital bed, a few monitors, and an IV stand.

Dr. Cho moved towards the door to greet them. “You ready, Steve?”

“As I’ll ever be, Dr.— Helen,” he corrected himself at the look she gave him, smiling sheepishly.

“And you, Sam?”

“If he’s ready, I’m ready.”

“We’ll take very good care of him,” she said reassuringly.

“I know you will.”

“Well, let’s get started then. Sam, you can have a seat over there.” She gestured toward a chair off to the side, then turned to Steve. “And you can take your shirt off and hop on up onto the bed.”

“Is that medically necessary, or are you just trying to ogle my man?” Sam joked from his seat. He was trying to keep things light, but Steve could hear the nerves in his voice.

“Little bit of both?” Helen grinned. “It does give us the access we need for the monitoring equipment, but I can’t promise I wouldn’t ask even if it didn’t.”

As the two of them laughed, one of Dr. Cho’s assistants was busy placing electrodes on Steve’s chest and another was prepping the IV.

Dr. Cho turned back towards him then. “As we discussed, the procedure is actually very simple. All of the hard work has already been done manufacturing the serum, for lack of a better word. I’m not as good at catchy names as Tony is.” Steve laughed, appreciating her efforts to help both him and Sam relax.

“Dr. Nagra will push the serum into your bloodstream through the IV and let it do its thing. Dr. Liu and I will keep an eye on your vitals and intervene if necessary. You may feel some discomfort, but it shouldn’t even come close to what you experienced with the original serum.”

“That’s good. Once was enough for that experience.”

Helen smiled down at him. “Last chance. You sure about this?”

He looked past her to where Sam was sitting, hands folded under his chin, elbows on his knees. “I’m sure.”

“Alright then. Here we go.” Helen nodded at Dr. Nagra and she added the serum.

At first, he barely felt a thing. After a moment, though, a cold sensation radiated out from the injection site. His heart began to pound and the icy feeling spread even faster, racing up his arm and across his chest and all throughout his limbs. He shivered and clenched his teeth, refusing to think of the Valkyrie and the years he spent beneath the ice.

Soon enough the ice turned to fire and he hissed, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain. He could hear Dr. Liu reading numbers off to Dr. Cho and tried to hold onto the fact that she didn’t sound like she was panicking. The pain increased and he couldn’t keep from crying out anymore. He thought he heard Sam calling his name, but there was a roaring in his ears and then everything went black.

 

He woke to the steady beating of the heart monitor and Sam’s hand brushing his hair back off of his forehead.

“Hey there, baby. You back with us? Can you let me see those pretty blue eyes of yours?”

Steve opened his eyes, squinting at the lights overhead.

“Yeah, that’s it. There are you are.” Sam leaned down and kissed his forehead. “How you feeling?”

“Tired. Did it work?”

Dr. Cho’s voice came from the other side of the bed, but he didn’t look away from Sam. “Well, you’re not a hundred years old, and you don’t appear to have lost any muscle mass, so we can at least say it didn’t go horribly wrong. It’ll take some more testing and probably a bit of time before we can say for sure how successful it was, though.”

Sam smiled down at him. “Does he need to stay here for monitoring?”

“As long as you give JARVIS permission to monitor him, there’s no reason why you can’t go back to your apartment.”

“Okay.” Steve winced as he stood up, Sam’s hand coming up to grab his elbow. He gave him a grateful smile. “Let’s go home?”

Sam kissed him. “Let’s go home.”

Steve felt like he had just gone 10 rounds with an entire squadron of Chitauri soldiers, so he spent the rest of the day in bed. Sam stayed with him, sometimes reading, sometimes watching Netflix, only leaving to get them both food and water when they needed it.

He woke up the next morning feeling much better and left Sam sleeping to go shower off the last remnants of the hospital feeling on his skin. He may have been in a lab only a few floors away, but there was still something about undergoing a medical procedure that left him feeling itchy and needing to wash himself clean.

He got out of the shower and secured a towel around his waist, using another to wipe off the mirror. He leaned in, studying his face, looking for any sign that things had changed, that Dr. Cho’s serum had worked.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been standing there when Sam interrupted him. “You keep staring at yourself like that I’m gonna think you’re as vain as Bucky.”

Steve huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Not possible.”

Sam stepped into the bathroom and turned Steve towards him. “She said it would take some time. Now suit up. We’ve got an appearance at the children’s hospital today.”

“Yes, sir.” Steve gave Sam a filthy smile.

“Oh, don’t start with that, you asshole, or we’ll definitely be late.” Sam smacked his ass as he left the bathroom. “Behave and I’ll let you call me ‘sir’ as much as you want later on tonight.”

 

Dr. Cho called a few days later with the news that as far as she could tell, the procedure had been a success.

“Just remember, Steve,” she cautioned, “we don’t know for sure if it will last. Right now your cells seem to be aging at the normal rate, but it’s still possible that the original serum might react to the new one and try to heal the changes. All we can really do is wait and see.”

“I understand. Thank you again, Helen. For everything.”

“It was my pleasure, Steve. Let me know if there’s ever anything else I can do. For you or Sam.”

He gave Sam the good news, and then they both did their best to put it out of their minds as the months passed. Bucky was right — there was no point in wasting time worrying about something that was still so far in the future. He had done everything he could, and just knowing that was enough for him to finally set it aside. Sam was with him right now, and he didn’t want to miss a single moment of it.

 

Sam and Steve were dozing on the couch, enjoying the afternoon sun that streamed through the windows of their apartment. Steve was laying on top of Sam, his head resting on Sam’s chest, despite his protests that Steve was way too heavy for that. Sam’s hand was carding through his hair, and he was moments away from being lulled into sleep.

“Hmmm.” Steve felt Sam’s hum under his cheek more than he heard it.

“What?” he mumbled, not bothering to lift his head.

“You’ve got a gray hair.” Sam rubbed his finger over the same place again before Steve tilted his head up to look at him.

“I’ve got a what?”

Sam grinned down at him. “You’ve got a gray hair.”

Steve pushed himself up on his arms, hovering over Sam. “I’ve got a gray hair?”

Sam just nodded, reaching a hand up to the side of Steve’s neck.

Joy burst in Steve’s chest as he lunged down to kiss Sam. Both of them were smiling too much for it to be anything other than messy and uncoordinated, but Steve didn’t care. He had a gray hair! He was going to have everything he ever wanted, and he was going to have it with Sam.


End file.
